


Moonstruck

by OpalliteGlass



Series: League Skin Series [15]
Category: League of Legends
Genre: Bondage, Gags, M/M, Porn With Plot, Restraint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:40:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22481941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OpalliteGlass/pseuds/OpalliteGlass
Summary: Aphelios is interrupted while performing a ritual within the Lunari Inner Sanctum. Luckily, he finds the stowaway to be rather cute.
Relationships: Aphelios/Ezreal
Series: League Skin Series [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/981762
Comments: 3
Kudos: 90





	Moonstruck

Aphelios sighed, letting his breath nebulize in the cold air of the Inner Sanctum. His hands, covered by the black bodysuit he wore underneath his Lunari robes, where pressed against the freezing stone floor. From his kneeling position, he could see the Noctum flowers; blooming perfectly in the protected magics of the Sanctum.

Their purple blossoms, while considered one of the most beautiful of all Runeterran flora, contained within them a deadly, deadly toxin. When mixed with the sacred, moon-touched waters that flowed through this Sanctum, they created a potent mixture that granted the drinker immense strength and spiritual power.

However, all things have a price. And for the Noctum flower, that price was one many couldn’t bear to go without; your voice. Despite the hefty toll, Aphelios took the bargain without hesitation. Without the Noctum’s amplifying properties, he was unable to connect to his sister, Alune, whose body and soul resided in the Spirit World.

He looked up at the hole carved in the rock ceiling of the Sanctum. The moon’s light, pale in her beauty and graceful in her design, spun gossamer threads of radiance down into the Sanctum’s pool. A small wooden dish, ornately carved and gilded, was placed on the stone in front of him. Once the full moon’s light touched the deep purple liquid within it, it would become charged with her power.

Then, Aphelios would imbibe in its painful bounty, and his connection to Alune would be restored. Despite this place’s close connection to the Spirit World, Aphelios was unable to connect to his sister. His connection with her became thinner and thinner as the next full moon approached, and he would need to repeat this ritual to renew their tether.

A tinge of impatience clawed at the pit of his stomach before he shoved it away, deep down inside. The moon moved at her own pace. To insinuate that she was moving too slow would be heresy. He inhaled deep through his teeth, calming himself, before exhaling again. His faith was unbreakable, despite his deep desire to talk to his sister again.

A noise came from behind him. In an instant, he was on his feet, a moonstone weapon forming itself from thin air, dropping into his right hand. Severum, the Scythe Pistol. A deadly, razor-sharp weapon, a pistol that possessed a leading edge on the muzzle that could slice through time itself.

The moonstone weapon hummed with energy, bolstered by its presence within the Inner Sanctum. The smooth, polished crags of the Sanctum were empty, but Aphelios knew it would be easy for someone to hide behind one of the many stalagmites. He waited, holding his breath, for any additional sign of movement.

A quiet shuffle came from behind one of the crags, and Aphelios spotted a leather shoe pull itself out of view. With a quick, powerful swiping motion, he fired a curving arc of red light at the stalagmite, easily cleaving the rock in half and presumably bisecting whoever had been hiding behind it. With a loud clattering, the pieces of rock fell to the ground, revealing a bright yellow tuft of hair.

Aphelios’ eyes widened imperceptibly. He had _missed_ . He _never_ missed. The blonde tuft popped up, revealing it was attached to a slim, beaming boy, who Aphelios instantly judged to be around his own age. He was wearing a brown leather bomber’s jacket, ringed with a strange blue fur trim, and a pair of blue arcane marks where present under each of his eyes.

A bronze gauntlet, outfitted with a large blue crystal in the center, adorned his right arm. A pair of green-titted goggles covered his eyes, but Aphelios didn’t care to look any further. Another swipe, and he sent a second arc of energy towards the boy, who yelped and disappeared into a flash of yellow sparks. The energy wave crashed into the out wall, unimpeded, leaving Aphelios even more confused (although his face did not bely it).

“Relax, relax!” Came an ethereal voice, before it solidified into the same boy a few feet to the right. “I mean no harm!”

Now that he was in the open, Aphelios could truly size the boy up. He was lanky, and his body language was relaxed and open, at odds with his current situation. Aphelios quirked an eyebrow, before releasing Severum. The weapon shattered, reforming into a much bulkier, curved cannon-like weapon. A small black hole hummed in the center of the weapon. Gravitum, the gravity cannon.

“Ooooh!” The boy exclaimed, snapping his goggles up to rest on his forehead. “Is that… Gravitum?” He asked, sending Aphelios for a mental loop.

The Lunari made a sound of annoyance and confusion, firing a burst of darkness at the boy. Surprisingly, the boy spread his arms wide, letting himself be hit full force by the energy. Dark tendrils sprang from the impact sit, wrapping themselves around his torso and arms, slamming him into the ground forcefully.

He made a quiet groaning sound, adjusting his position to get more comfortable as Aphelios walked towards him.

“Hold on, hold on.” The boy said, trying fruitlessly to reach into his jacket pocket. “I _have_ to sketch it! Gimme a sec…”

_Sketch_ it? Aphelios couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He nudged the boy with his boot, pulling him away from his search through his jacket. He jerked a thumb at himself, then back at the boy. Then, he drew his index finger across his throat with a scowl.

The boy was completely unphased by the threat.

“You’re Aphelios, right?” He said, trying to move his arms from his side with some difficulty, managing to force his right one out in what Aphelios assumed was an attempt at a handshake.

“I’m Ezreal. Piltovan explorer, cataloguer of all things cool and interesting.” He held the hand out, which was still covered in the dark tendrils holding him down.

Aphelios eyed the hand with a confused expression, before sighing quietly and forming a sign with his own free hand.

“ _What?_ ”

“Hm, my Targonian Sign Language is a bit rusty.” Ezreal said, grabbing the hand and shaking it before the dark tendrils snapped him back to his trapped position. “Tell you what, I’ve got some Cleartonic in my jacket pocket.” He twisted around so that Aphelios could see the left pocket.

“I know you’re probably doing your Noctum renewal ritual, but I’ve got some questions I’m dying to ask.” He gestured to the pocket with his head. “Its effects should be weak enough for it to work. Just grab the clear vial and take a sip.”

The muzzle of Gravitum was against Ezreal’s head in an instant, the barrel vibrating with energy.

“Wait, wait!” He said, still far calmer than anyone in his position should be. “I’m not a threat! I’m just an explorer!” He squirmed against the dark tendrils. “I’ve got some Lunari-related questions only you can answer!”

The muzzle was withdrawn slightly while Aphelios cocked his head. Someone was interested in the Lunari? And they _didn’t_ want to kill them? Perhaps he should listen to what this blonde idiot has to say.

After a moment, the gun was released, shattering into a million glittering pieces. Aphelios tapped Ezreal’s forehead with his finger to get the boy’s attention before jerking a thumb at him then at the moon that was overhead. Then he pointed at Ezreal, splaying his palm in front of the boy’s face.

“You’re doing your ritual… so I’ve got five minutes?” He guessed. “Well… this would go a lot faster if you drank the Cleartonic.” He laughed nervously. “I’m not very good at sign language.”

Aphelios sighed heavily, rolling his eyes. With a light nudge, he knocked Ezreal over onto his back, exposing his stomach and jacket pockets. The boy made a winded sound, his shirt pulling up to reveal the skin on his abdomen. The Lunari knelt, his scarf brushing the ground, as he began rummaging through the boy’s pockets.

“Hey, be careful in there! Left pocket only!” Ezreal complained, but the assassin ignored him, searching through the many pockets in case the explorer was hiding a concealed weapon.

He began pulling many objects out of the seemingly endless pockets; a small brass ball, a large, clear crystal that sounded an echoing tone when Aphelios placed it on the ground, some potion vials, including the Cleartonic, and a sketchbook. Before he could withdraw his hand, he felt something warm and hard, but pliable. Curious, he gripped it, hearing a quiet hiss from his captive and a blush cross his face as he averted his eyes.

The Lunari smiled knowingly, realizing that perhaps his captive was enjoying his situation more than he let on. It had been years since the assassin had had any romantic contact, and Ezreal seemed receptive, if a bit annoying. He quirked an eyebrow at the small sketchbook, sitting down completely and entering a cross-legged position as he flipped it open.

“You could _ask_ before violating my privacy, ya know.” Ezreal huffed. “Just be gentle! Don’t mess up any of the sketches!”

The Lunari was absentmindedly flipping through the pages, the first of which said MT. TARGON in barely legible scrawl, with an admittedly beautiful sketch of the south face of the mountain on it. The inner pages were filled with extremely detailed renditions of Targonian flora, fauna, and geological structures, including the secret, circular passageway to the Lunari Inner Sanctum.

He narrowed his eyes, turning the book so that it faced his captive.

“You like it?” Ezreal asked, puffing his chest up with pride.

Aphelios shook his head tersely, ripping the page out with one fluid motion.

“Hey!” His prisoner shouted. “I told you not to mess it-...” He trailed off when Aphelios summoned a small moonstone object, rectangular in shape, that set fire to the page when he touched them together. Blue flames consumed the paper, rendering it to ash in seconds.

Ezreal sagged in his restraints. “...up.” He finished, clearly upset.

The Lunari ignored him, grabbing the Cleartonic vial and popping the cork, drinking its contents in one fell gulp, before coughing a bit to clear his throat.

After a moment, he spoke, voice low and silky.

“No one can know where this place is.” He said, continuing to flip through the sketchbook. “It is sacred.”

“I wasn’t gonna share it with anyone.” Ezreal countered, but withered immediately under the scathing look Aphelios gave him.” Okay, fine, fine. Whatever.” He huffed.

For a while, only the sound of turning pages filled the Inner Sanctum. Then, as usual, Ezreal broke the silence.

“Your voice is very nice.” He said. “Not what I was expecting.”

“Is that so?” Aphelios pretended to entertain the boy as he scanned the pages for any more security breaches.

“Very soothing. Alluring, even.” He continued.

“I’m flattered.” Aphelios snapped the book shut, sliding it across the stone floor back to Ezreal. “The Sol Gates on pages twenty-three and thirty-four have too many rings.” He changed the subject immediately. “The east gate has five concentric rings, the west has seven.”

“Oh…” Ezreal’s pupils dilated as he realized the Lunari was actually going to answer his questions. “What are they made of?”

“Runesteel.”

“How old are they?”

“Two-thousand five hundred years old.”

“Wait, wait!” Ezreal exclaimed, trying to pull against the tendrils that still held him down. “I have to write this down!” He reached for the sketchbook, but a firm hand, coated in the black bodysuit, grabbed him firmly.

“You will not.” Aphelios said simply. “You are already very lucky to be alive.”

“But… I’m never gonna remember all of this!” Ezreal complained.

“That is for the best.” The Lunari replied. “If anyone else found out about this, I’d have to kill you. And you’re quite adorable.” He laughed, an uncommon behavior. “So I would rather not have to do that.”

“You think I’m cute?” Ezreal asked, beaming with confidence. “Well, when this is over, I know a _great_ place in Piltover that’s got the best steamed mooncake-”

“You’re cute, but talkative.” Aphelios interrupted. “When I’m done answering your questions, you will be bound, gagged, and placed at the entrance of the Sanctum.” He ignored Ezreal’s confused face. “The Rakkor will find you within the hour and take you to the foot of the mountain. From there, you will return to Piltover.”

“Aw, come on!” His captive exclaimed. “That’s not fair! You don’t _have_ to do all that!”

“I don’t _have_ to.” The Lunari smirked. “But I’m going to.” His eyes flicked down to Ezreal’s crotch, then back up to his face. “We both know you’re enjoying it. And I’m sure you would prefer a mode of restraint that’s more… comfortable?”

Ezreal looked away, as much as he could given the circumstances, and sheepishly mumbled, “Maybe.”

“Maybe that you’re enjoying it, or maybe you’d like to be more comfortable?”

“Both.” Came the equally quiet reply. “But you have to answer my questions first!”

“You have three minutes.” Aphelios said, looking up at the moonlight. “Then, you’ll be on your way.”

“Ugh, fine!” Ezreal squirmed inside his restraints. “Okay, where should I start?”

Aphelios shrugged, tapping the dark tendrils, dissolving them into glittering particles. He slid his long, blue scarf off of his shoulders, sitting Ezreal up as the boy pondered his first question.

“Okay, okay.” He began. “Were you born a Lunari?”

“Yes.” Aphelios said as he forced Ezreal’s arms behind his back, looping the silk around his wrists expertly, knotting them with a tight boxknot. “Born and raised.”

“Were you always- ah!” Ezreal hissed as the Lunari tugged on the scarf to ensure maximum tightness before continuing. “Always an assassin?”

“I started training when I was eleven.” Aphelios answered, wrapping the silk around Ezreal’s elbows and pulling his arms together. “One-one is a sacred number combination. We start all of our important ceremonies and rituals on it.” He looped the silk together, creating the start of a series of diamond knots in-between the insides of Ezreal’s elbows.

“Follow-up question.” Ezreal said, feeling his arms become immobilized. “Where did you learn to tie knots like this? Is it part of assassin training?”

He heard a short, quiet chuckle come from Aphelios’ nose.

“It’s not.” He replied, pulling the rest of the scarf up and over Ezreal’s shoulders, threading the extremely long scarves ends back behind his back and finishing it off with another boxknot.

“Let’s just say you’re not the first boy I’ve tied up.”

Ezreal’s eyes widened and he looked down at the floor.

“For pleasure or for business?”

Aphelios leaned over the boy’s shoulder, his gloved hand cupping the blonde’s tented pants ever-so-slightly.

“With you? It’s pleasure.” He whispered. “But unfortunately, your time is up.”

“Wait!” Ezreal exclaimed, trying to pull his arms apart but not budging an inch. “I only got to ask, like, two questions!”

“Such a shame.” Aphelios smirked, reaching into his robe pocket to produce a short length of rope and a thick square of cloth, the same color as his scarf. He forced Ezreal onto his back, ignoring the boy’s protests as he began tying his ankles together.

“But, I still have more questions!” He said, allowing Aphelios to cinch his feet together.

“Well…” Aphelios’ voice was quiet, a cut above a whisper. “You’ll have to visit again, now won’t you?”

He finished the knots on Ezreal’s legs, letting his useless lower half drop to the stone floor.

“Wait… there’s gonna be an ‘again’?” Ezreal asked.

“Of course.” The Lunari replied, sitting Ezreal up to face him. “You’ve piqued _my_ interest with _your_ interest. You want to learn about the Lunari. That makes you special.”

“Well… thanks.” The blonde said, squirming in his new restraints. “You’re right, this _is_ more comfortable.”

“Good.” Aphelios took the silk square, folding it horizontally, and held it up to Ezreal’s face. “This is the end of our conversation, as pleasant as it was.”

“Wait, I have to know- mmph!”

Aphelios forced the silk over his still open mouth, sealing it shut and tying it tightly behind his head, letting the knot sit underneath his blonde locks.

“Hm.” Aphelios mumbled as he stood. “You wear our colors well.” He scooped Ezreal up, hearing the boy complain from behind the silk.

“Mmr! Mmphmm!”

“Hush.” Aphelios chided. “Consider the scarf and handkerchief something to remember me by.”

He walked to the hidden entrance of the Sanctum, a large stone archway hidden by a shimmering veil of Lunari magic.

“I’ll be expecting you here next month. Same time.” Aphelios whispered, planting a small kiss on Ezreal’s neck and making the boy shiver in excitement. “Don’t be late.”

Then, he unceremoniously tossed the blonde through the veil, hearing him land on the soft moss outside and roll some distance down the hill, no doubt to be found by the Rakkor later that night.

Aphelios sighed as he returned to the ritual at hand. Perhaps he’d have something else to look forward to in the coming months, now.


End file.
